My first post in 2014, as an apple crumble sits baking in the oven. Happy new year! I grew up in a home that on most days had the smell of a freshly baked cake wafting through it. Gooey brownies, stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth fudge and cinnamon-ey apple pies vied for our undivided attention with peach crumbles, tarts and jammy sponges. My father’s fast growing pot belly was testament to the awesomeness of the goods prepared by my mother. Surrounded by all this culinary greatness, I hadn’t till the time I got married, really ever cooked. I could make tea and a frothy cup of coffee. The only dish I could claim to have ever put together was a chicken curry. Turns out, I decided to marry a vegetarian. My mother handed me a cookbook as a part of my wedding present – Cooking for brides, bachelors and those who hate cooking by Rohini Singh. A life saver if ever there was one, as I struggled with curries in my little apartment in New York in the days of no skype and limited connectivity to ma. Once my mother gauged that I had it in me to feed others without possibly poisoning them, she handed over what can only be described as The Most Marvelously Magical Treasure Trove of Baking Recipes. Here then was the world of cakes and pies and more such revealed. Did I do anything much with it? Well, just a little fiddle here and a tiny fiddle there, every now and then. That is till I began writing. So here is the rather curious connection. The moment I...